


The Taste of Victory

by Nightfox



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Merlin Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfox/pseuds/Nightfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one expected Merlin Emrys to win the Individual Gold in Men's Archery, not even Merlin. However, hell hath no fury like an athlete scorned.</p>
<p>(Merlin_Olympics)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taste of Victory

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Merlin Olympics on Live Journal. I did actually do a little bit of research on Olympic Archery (enough to know what type of bow they use, how all the parts of a modern compound bow work, how the scoring system works and in gerneral, what's been going on in the world of Archery in the last few years) and then I wound up using very little of it in the story so...sorry? Any technical issues that _do_ slip in there are the result of my total ignorance of the sport prior to randomly choosing it as something that sounded interesting to write about. 
> 
> Unbeta'd and not Brit-picked in the least, sorry about that!
> 
> Also, check out [ Alby_Mangrove's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Alby_Mangroves/pseuds/Alby_Mangroves/works) incredible drawing of archer!Merlin, [ As One With My Arrow](http://archiveofourown.org/works/485712). It's truly amazing!

*****

He’d done what he had to in order to get here. Now, standing on the line, final arrow knocked, bow raised, the drawn string kissing his chin and nose, he heard the quiet snick of the clicker and released. Even as the bow tipped forward and he felt the tug of the sling catching it he could see his arrow had landed just a centimeter from the exact center of the yellow heart of the target. He’d won. 

The cheers from the crowd were deafening. Merlin had been given the last slot in the competition and had won the gold. Arthur had already secured the bronze and the London crowd was going wild. Two medals right here on their own turf where it mattered most. The first archery medals of any sort for Great Britain since 1992 and this time they managed two of them. Naturally a South Korean took the silver and Merlin was still in shock that he’d managed to beat the man. He was older, more experienced and ranked #2 in the world standings. However, it was doubtful he was fueled by the cold rage that was still coursing through Merlin’s veins.

His coach had always told him to shed all emotion when he stepped up to the line. However, today, instead of meditating to release his anger, he’d channeled it. He wasn’t firing at a brightly coloured target 70 meters away, he was aiming for the heart of the man he’d trusted with _his_ heart and soul. Arthur Pendragon was a lying, deceitful, cheating bastard and each of Merlin’s arrows had pierced deep into the mark his mind had substituted for the official concentric circles of brilliant colour.

No one had expected Merlin Emrys, a quiet, twenty-one year old university student from Cardiff, to cinch the gold, not even Merlin himself. Of course, he’d come to the games determined to do his best and no athlete ever went to the Olympics without at least a great dream and some small hope that somehow they would be the one to beat the odds and take home the biggest prize, the highest accolade any sport could offer. However, it took just one man and a monumental betrayal to take the sweet, affable, “just happy to have made the team” boy he’d been only days before and stiffen his spine to tungsten carbide and light a competitive inferno deep in his chest.

*****

They’d been on the circuit together for years now, had known each other since their early teens when they’d both begun competing at a national and then international level. Both being from the UK, it was inevitable that they’d wind up at the same events over and over again. Arthur was the proverbial golden boy; the one everyone said would go far. Merlin was the kid that constantly amazed everyone simply because he was still around.

Four years ago, Merlin hadn’t even come close to qualifying for the Olympic Games but he’d been in Beijing anyway to support his boyfriend, Gwaine, a mountain bike racer. Naturally, he’d been there to watch the archery competitions as well and Arthur had taken note of his presence. 

“You came all the way to China just to watch us lose? That’s dedication, Merlin, especially when you hadn’t a prayer’s chance of making the team yourself.”

Merlin had laughed in the prat’s pretty face, clearly surprising Arthur if his gob-smacked look was anything to go by.

“No, Pendragon, as much as I love this sport, I’d never have had the cash to spare for a trip to Beijing just to watch you bungle it…again.”

Arthur winced. Beijing was his second try at the Olympics. Having first made the team when he was barely sixteen, he had come in a humiliating twenty second in the men’s individual event. He’d managed to crawl up to a respectable eleventh in Beijing but the sport was still being dominated mostly by the Asian countries (South Korea, China and Japan in particular) with a smattering of Americans among the world’s top ten.

“I’m here with my boyfriend, Gwaine. He’s a mountain bike racer, he flew me over on his own dosh. He’s swimming in endorsements, that one.” Merlin had grinned with pride. Gwaine was literally Britain’s poster boy for the sport. He had a model’s good looks paired with a top athlete’s talent and nothing drew sponsors in faster than a combination like that.

“Gwaine McLot? _You’re_ dating Gwaine McLot? I didn’t even know he was gay, let alone that a guy like that would have a thing for pale, lanky, little twinks like you!”

Merlin remembered his jaw dropping at the insult before he’d lost his cool and swung a fist at the older boy. Arthur had ducked the blow, grabbed Merlin by the wrist and had his arm twisted up behind his back before he could even blink.

“You fucking wanker! Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Calm down, Merlin. Just fucking calm down, there are cameras everywhere!”

“Sod the cameras and sod you, you prat-faced daddy’s boy! Can always afford the best equipment can’t you? But Daddy still can’t buy you a fucking win, now can he?”

“Merlin! Please, just calm down! I’m sorry, I was out of line.” Arthur was breathing right in Merlin’s ear, his wider build blocking the altercation from any unwanted notice. The body-warmed air puffing against Merlin’s neck made him shiver, distracting him from the anger that had gripped him so fiercely a moment before.

“If I let go, you promise not to take another swing at me?”

Merlin threw his head back, smacking Arthur hard in the nose while he gritted an affirmative from between clenched teeth. He wanted Pendragon off him and fast. He wasn’t sure if he could, but he wanted to blame the rapid tightening of his already tight jeans on the adrenalin induced by his violent anger. However, that hard muscled body pressed so tightly against his back,was having an extremely alarming and embarrassing effect on his libido. His arse was firmly wedged into the cradle of Pendragon’s hips, their thighs pressed tightly together and those full pink lips were _so_ close to the sensitive lobe of his ear. A minute ago he’d wanted to put Arthur’s lights out, now all he wanted to do was get away before he begged the man to bend him over the nearest suitable object.

He found his arm released and he jerked away as fast as he could get his limbs to move. Spinning on the blond, he’d hissed, “Just stay the fuck away from me, Pendragon. You keep your fucking homophobic insults behind those ugly, crooked teeth of yours, you got it?”

Stalking off, he’d gone to find Gwaine and he'd let his easygoing boyfriend talk him down from the towering rage he’d worked himself into by the time he’d flagged a taxi and made it back to his hotel.

*****

Bending his head to allow the gold medal to be draped around his neck, Merlin found it odd, how now, in the ultimate moment of his triumph, the fights with Arthur over the years were all he could think about. The smile on his face felt stiff and fake but he held it plastered there as he straightened and held the medal up for all to see while he waved the ubiquitous bouquet of flowers over his head at the cheering crowd.

*****

Almost a year after Beijing, he and Gwaine had parted ways. It was as amicable a split as one could ever hope for. They both simply realized that the distance between them and their training schedules didn’t mesh and while they’d been spending less and less time together, they’d just drifted apart. Strangely enough, it seemed that his break-up with Gwaine provided the fuel for yet another blow-out with Pendragon. This time, it happened just before a major team competition.

“Jesus, Emrys, you’ve got a face like a wounded bear! What the fuck’s wrong in your emo little world this time? Your favourite indie band break up? Stop being such a girl and pull it together for fuck’s sake, we have a tournament to win!”

“Fuck off, Pendragon. I just got the “Dear John” call from Gwaine, alright? Forgive me if I’m a tad bit bummed. We’ve only been together for almost three _fucking years_. Nothing to be upset about, right? Twat!”

“He dumped you?”

“No, not exactly.”

Blue eyes widened and blond brows rose high.

“He _cheated_ on you?!”

“No! No, it’s not anything like that. We just,” Merlin sighed. “We just came to the conclusion that we don’t have time for each other, that we’re just not in sync anymore.”

“Christ, Emrys! You really are a fucking girl! Did they do the genetic testing on you? Cause I’m sure you’ve got to have a double X in there somewhere. _’We aren’t in sync anymore.’_ Fucking grow some bollocks, would you? We’re competing in exactly two and a half hours and I’m not losing because you’ve decided to take the emo bus tour of Melancholia!”

Exploding upward from his slump on the hotel steps, this time Merlin landed the blow he aimed at Arthur’s face. Well, he clipped him anyway. A deep curl of satisfaction warmed his belly when Pendragon’s chin snapped sideways but was instantly followed by a twinge of guilt. They _did_ have to compete in just a few hours and he could have seriously hurt Arthur if his aim had been better. He stood his ground though and glared at the insensitive arsehole staring at him speculatively.

“Alright, that’s better, Emrys. Get a fire in your belly and for fuck’s sake use it!”

Eyebrows soaring in surprise, Merlin gaped at him just a bit when Arthur added,

“But next time, don’t aim for my face this close to a match, yeah? It’d be hard to draw with my face all bruised up. Go for a body shot.” Then he strolled away as if nothing had happened.

Coming on top of the break-up with Gwaine, the entire encounter had left him off-kilter and it showed in his performance later on. His first three shots had all landed in the blue and Pendragon had come straight after him, hurling insults about his talent and taunting him about his emotional stability. It had ticked Merlin off so badly that his next three shots all hit the center yellow ring; in his mind’s eye each arrow had pierced the spoiled prat right in the bollocks. Despite the improved performance, they’d come in third as a team and his coach had pulled him aside afterward to give him a lecture about leaving his emotions back in the locker room.

*****

Merlin had never let Arthur effect his performance like that again…until now. Like that day more than three years ago, he’d taken his anger and channeled it, used the cutting edge of his pain to sharpen his focus, not destroy it. He was hurt, he was angry but he’d be dry-fucked without a courtesy wank if he’d allow himself to be broken. He’d delivered a record performance in each round, racking up the points, shot after shot. Arthur’s face, his chest and yes, even his bollocks serving as targets in Merlin’s head. He’d never made a better score in his entire career. He was somewhat surprised that the trophy now hanging from his neck felt more like a lead weight than a gold medal.

*****

After Beijing, Merlin had switched coaches. The only drawback that he could see to the new arrangement was that he had to share the same training team with Arthur Pendragon. However, he’d put aside his personal dislike of the arrogant prat because Leon Rídere was the best archery coach in the UK.

The move to Shropshire had been a bit of a wrench but worth it. He’d had no difficulty transferring from Cardiff University to the University of Birmingham to continue his studies in medicine. While the forty-five minute commute was less than pleasant, it was certainly more practical than trying to continue on in Cardiff. As it was, he’d heard so many stories of athletes that had to commute for hours and hours _every_ day to get the best trainers that he really felt no impulse to whinge about his situation.

The worst of it though, had been the strain on his relationship with Gwaine. It had already been hard enough to juggle a tough university schedule, archery training and a boyfriend with a grueling schedule of his own when they lived in the same city but now, Gwaine was more than a two hour drive away. The time they got to spend together had eventually grown so scarce that they’d just called it quits. He had loved Gwaine but the timing wasn’t right. He wasn’t willing to give up school and his Olympic dreams and neither was Gwaine. Thankfully, they’d parted as friends and had managed to remain friends ever since.

No, living in Lilleshall wasn’t a problem. However, the blond prat who roomed next door to him was. At least, he was at first. It took Merlin quite a long time to realize that Arthur’s behavior was more jealous pig-tail pulling than malicious bullying. In fact, it wasn’t until Arthur admitted as much to him that he saw the behavior for what it was. Merlin could be incredibly dense when it came to his personal life.

Sure, he’d found the maddening man infernally attractive but he hadn’t realized that Arthur felt the same way about him. After all, they’d known each other for years at that point. Arthur, being three years older than Merlin _and_ from a filthy rich family, had always seemed untouchable, unreachable and certainly far out of Merlin’s league. Then add in the fact that he’d never realized that Arthur wasn’t entirely heterosexual and he hadn’t even _allowed_ himself to think of the ridiculously sexy prat in those terms.

After Merlin and Gwaine had parted ways, Merlin had decided to lay off the dating scene and concentrate on studying and training to the exclusion of all else. It took months of increasingly obvious attempts on Arthur’s part to get Merlin’s attention before he even realized the other man was interested. Actually, it had taken a burst of serious frustration on Arthur’s part to finally break through Merlin’s oblivion. 

It was a Saturday evening and Merlin had been curled up in the common room with a medical journal. It had been a long, hard day of training and he was babying his right arm a bit, icing it down while he thumbed through some of the latest developments in cancer research. Arthur had come in and started teasing him about his “relaxing” choice of literature. Merlin had fired back with some derogatory comment about Arthur’s intellect, his mind only half on the conversation when Arthur had reached out and snatched the journal from his hand.

“Really Merlin, am I actually going to have to spell this all out for you? What kind of a doctor are you going to be if you never even notice what’s right under your nose?”

Genuinely confused, Merlin had stared uncomprehendingly up at Arthur.

“What on earth are you on about?”

“Is this your way of letting me down easy? Because if it is, it really, really isn’t working.”

Merlin could feel his eyebrows draw together and his lips purse the way they always did when he was confused.

“What?”

“Oh my God, you really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

Reaching out to push the icepack off Merlin’s shoulder, Arthur grabbed both his hands and firmly pulled him to his feet.

“This. Just… _this!_ ”

And then he’d kissed him. It was so unexpected that Merlin didn’t respond at all, simply standing there in shock as Arthur gently rested his hands on either side of his face and rubbed their lips together. He nipped playfully at Merlin’s lower lip and licked a wet stripe across the top of his mouth. When Merlin still failed to respond, Arthur pulled his lips away and leaned his forehead against Merlin’s.

“OK, I get it. I just…I had to try, you know? I’ve wanted you for so damn long and you never even give me the time of day, I just…well, I had to at least make sure you _knew_.” 

He let go of Merlin and stepped back, a flush across his cheeks and a ruefully self-deprecating smile on his puffy, pink lips. He looked so forlorn and defeated and suddenly Merlin _got it._ Arthur turned to leave but Merlin found his hand shooting out to grab his arm, to stop him, to bring him back.

“No! Wait!”

Arthur turned back and Merlin could see the hope flickering in the back of his bright blue eyes. This time, he leaned in and kissed Arthur. Covering his lips with his own, he sucked gently until Arthur opened his mouth with a loud groan and wrapped his arms around Merlin. Eventually tongues, and teeth and even sweet saliva became involved as they drank from each other as if kissing someone else was an entirely new experience for both of them. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing harshly and straining in equal ways. Merlin’s voice was soft and hoarse.

“I didn’t know. I honestly didn’t know. Fuck, Arthur, you’re always such a smug, taunting, _annoying_ little prick, how the hell was I supposed to know?”

“Idiot.” The epithet was gentle, fond. “I was trying to get your attention. You were always _with_ someone, how else was I supposed to get you to notice me?”

“I haven’t been with anyone in months.”

“Yeah, and you still didn’t notice me.”

“Oh I noticed you, you’re rather hard to miss Pendragon.”

“Arthur, _please_ , call me Arthur. I hate the way you say my last name. Like it’s something nasty in your mouth.”

Merlin smiled.

“Alright, Arthur. I’ll refrain from using your father’s name from now on.”

“Ugh, and definitely don’t mention my father when my dick is up. Unless you want to instantly kill any trace of desire I’ve got going at the moment.”

Laughing, Merlin had teased him that he’d keep that in mind if he ever needed an emergency kill-switch. Arthur told him to shut up and returned to snogging him stupid. More than three years on, that had remained Arthur’s favoured method to get Merlin to stop talking.

*****

Face aching with the strain of constant smiling, Merlin thought he should feel at least _some_ triumph, some satisfaction in this moment. After all, he’d proven that he belonged here, that his own merit, his own _talent_ had been enough to not just win one of the three competitive spots allotted to the host nation but to win the gold medal itself. He’d proven all the doubters wrong, he’d proven _Arthur_ wrong and in the process had relegated Britain’s golden boy to bronze. However, even as “God Save the Queen” echoed all around him, the focused fury of the past few days only settled down into a simmering bitterness.

*****

It began with a ringing mobile. Arthur was in the shower, Geraint had already left to go warm up and Arthur’s phone just would _not_ stop ringing. Thinking that the message must be important if the persistence of the caller was any indication, Merlin touched the answer button and before he could even identify himself, a husky female voice began to speak in urgent, almost frantic tones.

“Thank fuck for finally answering, Pendragon! We have a major fucking problem on our hands. All of those athletes are challenging the drug test results and if they start a _real_ fucking investigation you, me _and_ that little boy toy of yours are fucking fucked! Even if they don’t trace it back to us, we could still be bolloxed! What if they throw out _all_ the qualifying athletes from our events? They can’t do that, can they?” 

Finally the woman fell silent, apparently expecting an answer. However, while Merlin could ape Arthur’s posh accent when it amused him to do so, he couldn’t replicate the man’s voice. The second he opened his mouth, this woman was going to know it wasn’t Arthur. He hesitated for several long moments.

“Well, can they? Oh my God, they can, can’t they? Oh, fuck, oh fuckity fuck! What the hell are we gonna do? This was all your idea in the first place! Why did I ever listen to you?”

Merlin finally managed to choke out, “Um, I think you have a wrong number.”

There was a silence, broken only by some sort of crackling noise and then the call went dead. Merlin sat staring at the phone until the bright screen finally dimmed and went black of its own accord. He sat there and listened as handles turned in the bathroom and the shower slowed to a stop. He continued to stare at the blank, black screen of Arthur’s phone until the man himself came into the room gloriously naked, briskly rubbing a towel across his damp golden hair.

He grinned at Merlin’s stunned expression and slid across the bed toward him, leaning in to kiss his unresponsive lips.

“It’s not like you to get nervous, Love.” 

Still smiling he kissed Merlin again, letting his lips linger longer this time, licking a wet stripe across Merlin’s lower lip, attempting to nudge his mouth open but Merlin pulled away.

“Wow. You really are nervous, aren’t you? I’ve never seen you like this!”

Arthur’s eyes were bright when they met Merlin’s and he could only imagine what his boyfriend of three years was seeing in his own gaze but it was enough for him to draw back, his bright eyes dimming and his handsome face pinching in concern.

“Merlin? Merlin, what’s wrong? This isn’t just nerves about today, is it? What’s happened? Is it Hunith? Your uncle? Did something happen?”

He didn’t really recognize his own voice when he responded.

“You had a phone call. They kept calling and calling and I thought maybe it was an emergency because they kept skipping your voicemail and calling again. So finally I answered it. She didn’t identify herself, clearly she knew you’d know who she was without having to do so.”

Jaw clenching hard, the next words gritted out from between his clamped teeth.

“Apparently some athletes are questioning the results of their drug tests and this woman felt you needed to know. She said ‘we’re fucked, all of us, including your _little boy toy_ if there’s a real investigation.”

Arthur paled beneath his semi-permanent tan. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth as if to speak then closed it again.

“Why would you or I be fucked if there’s an investigation, Arthur? I do recall a few of the archery candidates failed their tests. Not so surprising though, that happens every year. Though I do have to admit that _Lancelot_ being one of them came as a a shock. Didn’t think I’d ever met a bloke so straight on the narrow as him, so that did come as a bit of a blow.”

“Merlin…”

“Still, I didn’t think of it at the time, like I said, every year a few of the blokes try for that extra edge or wind up cracking under the pressure. So…why would this foul-mouthed little bitch call you about a challenge to the test results, Arthur?”

“I don’t know who _she_ is, let alone why she’d be calling me.” 

Arthur reached for his phone, as he spoke but Merlin was closer and snatched the phone up before Arthur could grab it. He thumbed the screen to life and flicked up the call list.

“Don’t know who Sophia T is, Arthur? Then why is she programmed into your phone, hmm? I told her she had a wrong number but clearly she didn’t.”

“Merlin, I…”

He exploded.

“What? What did you fucking do, Arthur? You fucked with the drug tests, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” Merlin was shouting and it didn’t matter that he wasn’t the shouting type, he was shouting now.

“For fuck’s sake, _why_? You had a fucking guaranteed spot on the fucking team why would you do that? You didn’t need to tank anyone else to get ahead so what the fuck did you do it for?”

An uncharacteristically helpless look crossed Arthur’s face and Merlin suddenly understood.

“It was for me wasn’t it? You and this Sophie rigged the tests so that _I’d_ be sure to make the team.”

There was no answer but Arthur’s expression didn’t change.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You didn’t think I’d make the team on my own merit so you rigged it to eliminate the competition. Not for you but for me. Poor pathetic Merlin who can’t hit the broadside of a barn even if he had the brains to aim for it? And _Sophia_? I gather she’s another one? What’s her event?”

“She’s a sprinter.”

“Are you fucking her too? Use Daddy’s money to get both your favourite bits of tail into the Games?”

“No! No, God, no, Merlin! She’s an old friend of the family; I practically grew up with her. She came to _me_ months ago, she was so scared she wasn’t going to make the team and she wanted to so badly that I said I’d help her.”

“And me? Were you already planning to take out _my_ competition or did she give you the idea?”

Arthur turned away, refusing to even look at him and Merlin felt his stomach churn.

“No, _she_ was the afterthought. You’d already decided there wasn’t a chance in hell of me making the team on my own. You just added a few girls to your elimination roster as well.”

He wasn’t asking questions, he was making statements as he put the facts together.

“God, I am such a fucking fool. I really thought you loved me. I thought you _really_ believed in me. I sucked up every sweet word you ever fed me and every single one of them was a lie.”

Arthur finally turned back to him, panic showing clearly on his face.

“No, Merlin, I do love you! I swear I do and I _do_ believe in you! I always have, it’s just…you…you’re so inconsistent. You perform so fucking flawlessly in practice but when it comes down to competing, you just…”

“Bollox it?”

“No, yes, I don’t know! It’s like you lose your focus. You just seem so goddamned chuffed to be there that you don’t fucking pay attention!”

“Clearly I haven’t been paying attention to a lot of things. You being a ruthless, lying, fucking cheat for one. Fuck you, Pendragon.” Arthur winced at the acid Merlin used to spit out his last name. “You fucking watch me. You fucking watch me win and then you watch me walk away. And don’t you ever dare even _speak_ to me again, you foul fucker! You got that?”

Shoulders slumped, his eyes cast down, Arthur only nodded.

“You stay in your own place tonight. I don’t want you anywhere near me. I’m sure you can use your Daddy’s flat. It’s even closer than your own.”

*****

As he held up the shining disc of gold for the photographers, Merlin attempted to ignore Arthur’s scorching presence at his side. He’d proven Arthur wrong, he’d proven everyone who ever doubted him wrong. He’d won. A triumph on this scale should feel exhilarating but all he felt was a chafing sense of disappointment. People always described the taste of victory as something ineffably sweet, but for Merlin, victory stung his throat and laid the rotten tang of garbage left too long in the summer sun on his tongue.

He’d loved this sport, he’d loved his life and even more than these, he’d loved Arthur. As he walked away through the cheering crowd, he didn’t think he’d love any of those things ever again.  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rocky Trails (The Taste of Victory remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/696332) by [chicago_ruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/pseuds/chicago_ruth)




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